Robin In Chains
by Aliso
Summary: Everyone now tars Robin with the same brush as they do Slade. Eight months after the blackmail, the Titans are dead, and three former allies have a plan to capture Robin to bring him back.
1. Got Him

Robin In Chains

Part One: _Got Him_

Eight months is a long time. A lot can happen. Lives can be changed, turned upside-down, or even ended.

Eight months under _him_ would be enough to drive most people to suicide. But not the one who _was_ under him. He couldn't.

He was crouched rather precariously on a steel girder, surveying the tall tower that was the building in front of him. He mentally went over what he was to do to retrieve tonight's objective for the hundredth time: since he was literally working for his sleep and food, and for no bruises, he couldn't afford to fail again.

The night breeze swept through his messy black hair, and before the verbal nudge from the transmitter in his ear had a chance to be sent, he stood and prepared to break into the skyscraper.

He wore a tight black outfit, armoured on the arms and legs and covering every part of him save his head and half his neck. The only splash of colour was the orange covering half the chest. This uniform was imprinted on the minds of every citizen in this city, everyone whom he used to protect…but now it, and therefore he, were synonymous with fear. The one whom he answered to hardly ever came above ground, but the stylised 'S' on the orange was enough to tell anyone around the world who he worked for.

Eight months of being blackmailed into being Slade's apprentice had changed Robin. He knew all too well that he was in a very deep rut, and as they say, 'the only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth'. He was now the enemy to the rest of the world, sinking his city into anarchy. The Titans were dead, all four of them, killed brutally three weeks into Robin's forced apprenticeship. Since then, knowing he was alone in the world, and with mistakes costing him rest, food and more and more beatings, it was either remain with Slade or die. And the second option was via murder, not suicide.

From being adventurous, friendly, confident and a gung-ho leader, Robin had become passive, quiet and very withdrawn. This had come as a surprise, as this was not what had been expected. Still, Slade was just biding his time with him.

There. It came. The sinister, sibilant voice in his ear, reminding him of his objective. Not bothering to reply, he set off.

&&&

It had gone very wrong, very quickly.

He had managed to sneak inside the skyscraper vault to steal what it was that Slade wanted/needed this time. Half the time he could hardly guess what on earth he could possibly do with the thing(s) he stole, and this was one of them; what looked like three little motherboards glued together in a prism shape with a plethora of wires splaying out from it in all directions. But as he was heading back towards the vault door, something made the outside keypad explode in a yellow flash; the door slammed shut. With no way to open it from the inside, Robin made his own exit through the ceiling.

Scrambling up an upward-sloping air vent with friction pads on his knees, he hurried to get to the top. He knew from experience only recently gained that upward-sloping air vents always opened out onto the rooftop, and from there in the cool night air he could escape. But this vent was beginning to become very hot.

At a two-way section, the intense heat roaring down from one path instantly set his mind against it. His mind warned him about danger; perhaps whatever blew up the vault door had triggered a fire, but not only that, he was on the lookout for traps. Ambushes.

Hurling the vent grille to the side, Robin leapt out onto the roof, sweating like crazy from the heat inside and from the tension curling in his stomach. That anxiety was answered almost straight away: several warning shots flew past his head and buried themselves in the concrete behind him. Wondering for a split-second why the police were getting more and more involved, and for another split-second to devise a getaway, he turned and fled.

So Robin was running for his life. Again. He'd been doing that a lot in the past eight months. Oh, not for his life as in his livelihood: he didn't have one. Not any more. No, he ran simply to survive.

But this time, that survival was going to be brought to an abrupt halt. Not a stop, just a pause.

A keen eye watched his progress across the roof, focusing intently on the bare skin that the now-feared uniform did not cover. As his target slowed for half a second to look over his shoulder, the keen eye narrowed, and he fired.

Robin gasped out loud at the sudden sharp pain that punctured the skin at the back of his neck. He tried to keep running, but the colours of the night were swiftly beginning to blend into each other, and a roaring came into his ears, blocking out the exclamations from the transmitter. He turned once, his eyes rolled up and he collapsed.

The archer on the high balcony nodded grimly.

"Got him."

A skinny, blonde-haired girl came up beside him. She wore a dark yellow tight sweater and black trousers covered with pockets. She crouched down beside the ginger-haired, red-clad teenager.

"How strong was that stuff?" she asked, amazed at the speed the tranquillizer had brought him down. From running and jumping to slumped to the floor on his back, the transformation had taken only twenty seconds. She suspected his elevated pulse had carried the powerful sedative to his brain quicker, but even though it was what she had expected, she was still shocked.

"As strong as we dared. We need to get answers, and we need to defeat that madman. If Robin is still Robin, he may be the key. We need him safe first."

"And safe means restrained?" asked the girl. The archer smiled reassuringly at her with angled eyebrows.

"That may have to be. Don't forget, the police detectives are involved here. Our city's been spiralling into fear during the last year; it's our responsibility to pull it out." The third speaker, a long-haired young man wearing blue and black, clambered down off the balcony and began to approach the completely unconscious form of someone he used to know.

The first thing he did was crouch down and hold a hand over Robin's face to check he was still breathing. The potent drug they had used had a tendency to paralyse the diaphragm as well as the skeletal muscles. Robin was still breathing softly, but the man crouched beside him gently tilted his head back as a precaution to keep his airways open. He then reached over to remove the transmitter from Robin's ear, and then he pulled a powerful magnet from a pocket to short out any other electrical device that may be there. He had to make sure only they and a few senior policemen knew where he had been taken.

The other two from the balcony joined him. They had only begun to relax when one of those senior policemen came onto the roof and saw their handiwork.

"Good work," he said.

"It was easy," said the teenager in red.

"Almost too easy. I haven't forgotten last time," said the blonde girl. Last time, Robin had been ambushed – literally – by a veritable mob of policemen, but his gymnastic ability had proven his escape and their downfall. They had had him pinned down by his outstretched arms, but had only two people holding his legs spread-eagle; Robin had almost done the splits upside-down as he shunted everyone off him with one decisive move, allowing him to leap to his feet and run. The episode had lasted forty seconds yet they had been defeated so easily.

"Last time we hadn't considered tranquillizer darts," agreed the policeman. "All right, you three, you'd better start putting out the false trails. I'll take the boy into custody…hmm."

The three knew their next stage of the plan, and the girl looked a little anguished. She did not like this plan much, especially the effects it might have, but she knew that it could result in an overall victory for them. But at the sight of the officer's shifted expression, she and the two boys followed his gaze and looked down.

The officer had seen Robin move his left hand slightly; perhaps he was coming to faster than they anticipated. "I thought I might need this," he said bleakly, pulling a thin box out of his pocket. Inside was another, larger, syringe.

"What's _that_ for?" exclaimed the teenager in blue. His two companions were similarly shocked.

The officer crouched down, pulled off one of the metal arm-plates and pulled back the black fabric to expose the bare skin of the elbow of Robin's right arm. "You used thiopental. Fast acting, but fast to wear off. It'd have only kept him out for ten minutes. This," he said with rigid finality, pressing the needle against the inside of Robin's elbow, " – will keep him out for six hours. More than long enough."

The three watched with varying levels of apprehension as he inserted the needle into a vein and plunged Robin into drugged sleep even further. The proof could be seen as Robin's left hand, slowly lifting as he was beginning to wake, sank back down upon the additional sedation. The policeman, after sending the three downstairs to continue, and lifting the limp body in his arms, allowed himself to grin slightly. Today was the beginning of the end of Slade's empire.

* * *

Hiya all! My name is Aliso (well, that's my nickname) and this is my first uploaded story. I'm going to add all the author's notes and stuff down da bottom. I don't own Teen Titans, and I'd love it a lot if you'd tell me whatcha think of what I can pull out my scrambled mind. Cheers in advance! 


	2. What Happened?

Robin In Chains

Part Two: _'What Happened?'_

Robin slowly came round, feeling a little nauseous and headachy. The room he was in took a long time in coming into focus. It wasn't very well lit, but it smelled clean. Air-freshener clean. No trace of dust.

His wondering at his location ceased once he realised he could not move his limbs. His fear rose; he began to panic at his helpless situation. He started to struggle, albeit weakly, desperate to break free.

A reassuring hand then placed itself on his shoulder. He swept his frightened gaze towards it, staring straight at the other person. Recognition – and hope – dawned.

"No…it can't be…" he whispered, afraid to think the person was real and friendly.

"Robin. Long time, no see." Aqualad's smile reinforced his supportive hand. He was glad that Robin still recognised him. Maybe this plan wasn't as foolish as several thought.

"But…but…where am I? How did you…what…why can't I move?"

Two other figures came into the light: the two that were with Aqualad on the balcony. "Let me introduce you to these two. This is Speedy, pretty much the best archer I've ever met. You may know of him already." Robin nodded as Speedy curtly greeted him. "And this is Terra. You won't know her. She's a geokinetic; she moves earth and rock with her mind. We found her wandering and we took her in."

"Hello," was her greeting.

Truth to tell, none of the three really knew of what to make of him. Ever since the events beginning eight months ago, there was nearly nobody at all who thought that Robin could actually be of some help in finally bringing Slade down. Everyone thought he was just as bad. But the ones who knew him – who were still alive, that is – felt that it was wrong to judge him as so.

The mistrust was obvious. The senior detectives had eventually warmed to the three's growing plan, until finally they had given the go-ahead and prepared for a long criminal interrogation session. But the three had intervened then, knowing that it wouldn't go well at all if they plunged straight into that. Capturing him with the drugging was going to be hard enough on his mind; they didn't want him to think that _he _was the one in serious trouble. Not too much, anyway.

No less than seven strong plastic loops tied Robin's wrists behind his back and the back of the chair. Steel handcuffs chained his ankles to the chair legs. The police had refused to let him be unrestrained at any time, much to Terra's dismay, but they said this would do for now. They had also taken off the armoured black uniform, instead dressing him in a thin yellow t-shirt and faded grey cotton pants. He was barefoot and bare-armed, and he could feel a plaster stuck over the wound on the back of his neck. He tried to guess at how long he could have been unconscious.

"Robin. Listen. We've been working on this for months. We're trying to stop Slade from turning the city into his empire, and we think you could be the key. I don't know how you must feel, but we would like your help."

Aqualad was startled by the sudden emotion that was shining in Robin's face. Salvation.

Speedy was the one who continued. "Okay…okay. I think we should start as we mean to go on; at the beginning."

"Good idea," said Terra.

"The…beginning?" murmured Robin, still a little disorientated.

"Tell us what happened. We need to know. All we do know is that eight months ago you switched sides, and the rest of your team died three weeks after," prompted Speedy.

All the way through that, Robin looked very thoughtful, as if trying to put his memories into words; but at the last few words he recoiled as if he'd been slapped round the face.

"Strike one," said Terra quietly. "Speedy, try not to mention that, would ya?"

Aqualad ignored them and pulled up a chair to sit directly in front of Robin. "But why you? What made Slade want you to be his apprentice?"

"I…" He swallowed hard. "Before it all…happened, Starfire said that we were similar. I didn't want to admit it…I was quite angry about it, but the remarks kept coming. He tricked the others to the trap, and me to his hideout. Then he triggered both traps at the same time – the nanoprobes into them, and me forced to…serve him."

"Nanoprobes?"

"Lordy…" Aqualad had figured it out very, very quickly. "No wonder. God, that man is smart, no matter how much you hate to say it, to devise blackmail so thoroughly…" He looked behind him at the other two. "If Robin had put one foot wrong then Slade would've set the nanoprobes to a destruction mode and let them wreak havoc within the Titans' bodies."

He turned back, and fixed Robin with a rather apologetic gaze. "I read the post-mortem report," he said quietly. "Their bodies were an utter mess inside. Even Cyborg's circuitry had been destroyed."

Robin lowered his head miserably.

"What did you do?" he asked softly.

"I tried to run away."

"Tried?"

"And failed. I…managed to get outside, and get to the woods out of town…but he caught up and…I don't remember much else."

He screwed his eyes shut painfully. "That's when he did it. Out of rage at me. I made him kill them, it's all my fault, I should've known _better_!"

Now he was trying not to cry and ruin his own self-esteem. From bottling everything up for eight months, releasing all that emotion was sure to have the repercussions later on.

"So what's that?" said Aqualad, seemingly talking to himself.

There was a pondering silence, but then a fourth voice spoke up.

"From a legal point of view, he isn't the one at fault. Morally, of course, it might be another matter."

The fourth voice was deeper and older than the other three's. The speaker came into the light and pulled up a chair of his own, surveying the restrained, still frightened and now very subdued teenager. The man was the senior detective who had supported the three's plan, and he had been eager to hear Robin's side of the story. He was intent on getting his city back to normality, and he had believed from the very beginning that Robin had not gone over to Slade's side willingly.

"So…you say that…"

&&&

It seemed to take hours, but in reality it was only forty-five minutes. The three watched the interrogation expert at work as he gently coaxed the beginning of the fable from Robin's memory to the detective's neat shorthand. But now his answers were slow in coming, and several times his head had seemed too heavy to hold up, and each time he jerked upright again. The detective knew that he would be overplaying his hand soon, as a testimony coming from someone who'd rather be asleep was not worth the same as one from someone wide awake. He decided to pause for some time, and he closed the notebook filled with his neat script.

"Time to stop?" said Aqualad.

"He's almost nodding off," remarked Speedy.

"But why? It's nine in the morning. Why is he getting tired now?" queried Terra.

"Slade must have deliberately re-arranged his body's clock to make him sleep through the day instead of the night. Like some kind of forced jetlag. It'll be hard to get his sleeping patterns back to normal," said the detective.

"So what do you suggest?" asked Aqualad.

"Well, we find him a bed. We'll have to continue this later." The man got up and called for the armed guards outside the door.

"Do you have to chain him up again? I just…think it's wrong." Terra looked down at the floor.

The two boys, helping the half-asleep Robin to stand with his hands still tied, looked at her.

The detective shook his head. "Sorry, Terra, but I think there's a total of five people in this base who even have a modicum of trust in him now, even disregarding his previous reputation. He'll be under police protection, but we have to do what's right for the public as well."

"What about…Slade…" Robin managed to get out.

"Ah. That reminds me." Brushing past Terra, the detective went to the table and picked up a thin, circular metal band. "We don't know how Slade finds you, Robin. For all we know, he probably has implanted some sort of tracking device within your body. If you wear this, it'll reveal nothing to any frequency or receiver but static." Purposefully, explaining as he did, he gently pulled Robin's head forwards a little, slipping the band around his rather thin neck and closing the ends together.

He gave a brusque nod to the three, effectively congratulation on the successful apprehension, and a dismissal as he took Robin's bare arm and helped him to the door.

Robin was glad, almost, of that strong but supporting hand. With his hands still bound behind him he was finding it difficult to balance, especially now he was fighting the fatigue that rolled over him like waves. "Where are you taking me?" he asked quietly.

"Solitary custody. But I reckon all you want to hear is that it has a bed. Sleep as long as you need and we'll see about feeding you later on."

"Do you have to…" He yawned spontaneously as they stopped outside a heavy windowless door set into the corridor. "…handcuff me again?"

The detective gave a nod to the guards behind him, but otherwise his voice was still gentle. "I'm sorry, but yes."

Robin nodded his understanding.

One of the guards behind him cut the plastic ties, but they kept a tight hold on his lower arms. They brought his arms round to his front, and fastened them together again. This time he could feel the coldness of the steel tight on both wrists, and he instinctively pulled his hands apart from each other, quickly learning that his limit was now about a ten-centimetre length of slack. Still holding his arms, they unlocked the metal door and half-led, half-pushed him inside. They weren't yet finished; a much longer chain was placed around his ankles, securing to a bolt in the floor and allowing him enough freedom to reach an adjoining bathroom, and more than enough for the bed, but not enough to let him reach the door. Satisfied, the guards left him and exited the room.

Robin impulsively cringed as he heard the door lock. He was sat on the bed, but for a long while he made no move, just staring at the chains on his wrists.

His shoulders sank. If there had been nobody there he recognised, and if he had sensed no hope in the air, he would have only ever felt this wretched once before in his life. Before he could think of anything more, the need for rest overcame him, and he welcomed the warmth of the blankets and the peaceful oblivion that soon followed.

There was hope, after all.

* * *

Yay! Second chappie!

Anyhoo. Um, please leave a review this time, I enabled the anonymous ones cause I only got two for the first chapter, and both from ppl I know. I'm at Winchester University now dances and I've changed my course to Creative Writing, and the lecturer said to alluv us fanfic writers: "Go back and have a look, and see if there's enough to make a real story out of your fanfiction!" Well I think there's loads in here, just gotta remove all the Teen Titans out of it...I think it's going to work. If you ever see a book very like this story, only with no TT except for the protagonist's name (Robin Holness! I already decided!) then I wrote it! But I will continue to write RiC, cause I need to know this story first!

And another thing...the 'chains' in the story are very symbolic. Okay, they're real in this chapter, but there's a whole load of symbolism that I realized...see if you can guess what it is. The next chap. will be rather short, almost like an interlude; just sayin'.


	3. Two Reactions

Robin In Chains

Part Three: _Two reactions_

The boy had become very withdrawn, he noted. Quiet. Passive. In a way that was good, because it was a sign that he was becoming moulded to Slade's will and did no longer talk back. In fact, he hardly talked at all now. Hardly even ten words in three days. He'd started to just keep his head bowed and out of trouble.

Not that Slade ever let Robin forget what he had done. The reason Robin hadn't orchestrated another escape plan after the first was partly because he'd learned his lesson, and partly because by the time three weeks had passed Slade's grip on him had only strengthened, and the means of blackmail could easily switch from defending his friends to the basic needs. Sleep, food, peace…Robin had to earn all three every day, and if his work wasn't pleasing enough, he would get none, and Slade had the means to make sure of that. Of course, it had been early days, but once the Titans had reached their extendibility he had planned to kill them off right from the start. He just hadn't expected that time to come in only three weeks.

Slade had several windows up on his computer screen; video feeds, some useful currently some not, and largest of all, one measuring his apprentice's vital signs.

He wondered why the boy hesitated so much before he began. Lifting a microphone, he sent him a little reminder, and nodded when he stood and began his mission.

He was pleased by the ease in which Robin managed to acquire the device he was hoping to utilize in his computer system. Then his concern rose, as he could only hear by sound feed and see by the jump of adrenaline that there was yet another ambush.

"Don't even bother waiting, Robin. Get out of there and throw them off your scent."

The boy had almost been captured some weeks before. Slade wondered if Robin even knew that all the police would do was haul him off in chains. The hero he had been was now nothing more than a memory to most, and he was on the list of all the Public Enemies Slade could find. He made sure Robin knew that.

Then something went terribly wrong.

He was startled by Robin's cry of pain, and the sudden jump of his vitals – and then the unstoppable slumps.

"Robin? Robin, what happened? ANSWER ME!"

But he did not. More like, he could not. For Slade knew what the slump of all his vitals meant – someone had used a tranquilliser dart, and must have hit the only place where his skin was exposed, and that very good shot had known exactly where to aim.

He could do nothing about it but watch as the strong sedatives threaded their way swiftly through Robin's bloodstream, his racing heart pumping it to his brain. In the space of a few seconds, his skeletal muscle relaxed completely, sending him toppling backwards as his brainwaves dipped into deep sleep.

There were no two ways about it. His apprentice had been captured.

Cursing and blinding angrily, he pulled up a window that screened for what it had been – and more importantly, how long it would last. He couldn't help but feel enraged at the boy, even though Robin couldn't possibly have done anything about it – hell, nobody could have. Also, for the first time in months, there was that incorrigible sense of powerlessness.

The screen came up with a quick reply: Sodium Pentothal. He felt a quick twinge of fear before he dismissed it; the typical effect this drug was supposed to have was only perpetrated by the media. It did not mess with one's self-control, although it did make the drugged victim, after they'd woken up, much more talkative than normal. Plus it only lasted for ten minutes.

That is, until the vitals screen showed something else being injected. Something much stronger, and that would last for much longer. Therefore Slade could not rely on Robin waking and getting away. This was one hell of a sneaky tactic, and he was fuming.

Knowing that he had only the locator to go by now, he pulled up that blueprint-esque screen; but a large part of the desktop exploded in a scatter of sparks. Kicking the now dead computer angrily,Slade knew that someone had used a magnet on the small device to cause a shortage wheneverhe checked on it, as it hadjust now.

Still swearing under his breath, the masked enemy of the city sat down at a table and switched on a small desk lamp. Whoever had captured Robin obviously knew too much, if they had been able to do what they did, so he had to work out where he stood now. Perhaps they didn't know of one of the last resorts Slade had up his sleeve when it came to the boy, but it was also equally possible that they would take precautions over it anyway. Whoever had done this would pay dearly, and so would Robin, if he even dared to think that this might benefit him too.

No. He had heard the saying, "Good things come to those who wait". That was what he would do, to stow his hand only to bring it out later for a grand defeat.

&&&

The three had retired to a room to wait. Judging by the relatively long elevator ride upwards, a lot of the hidden, recently built police complex was underground. And therefore, safer. Their room was like an employee's lounge, and littered with wrappers and paper; ever since the two boys, on the run from Slade, had met the young blonde girl and began formulating their plan, they had fallen in with the police and had abandoned what was left of their hideout. And with good timing too: the drone-like robots of that crazy man had collapsed the whole building not four days later. Hopefully, Slade thought the boys were dead, just like the other members of Robin's team. That gave them the element of surprise, even if it wouldn't be much.

So now this room was their home, messy as it was. There was a curtained window on one side, an old television with channel-changing buttons, three sofas and a sink and a fridge built into a cupboard next to the door. The sofas all had blankets piled on them, as they doubled up as their beds. The television didn't work well, but even if they could wrestle the aerial into the back they doubted it would pick anything up anyway.

Speedy was testing this, without much success. He found the lack of a remote control irritating. He could just about get a VCR to plug into it and work, and not much more. Aqualad, oblivious to Speedy's muttered cursing as the static changed direction, stood at the window, watching the sky go a darker blue and the clouds turn pink. He was pondering what was to happen to Robin next, and even if he would accept it.

"Bloody thing!" Speedy swore finally, giving up.

He was met by silence, and only a slight humming and crumbling noise broke it.

The Atlantean turned from the window, drawing the curtains. "How is he?"

At first he was taken aback, but realizing what he meant, Speedy turned the TV back on, pressing the lowermost channel button. One thing that did work was a piggybacked feed from the CCTV in the locked room several stories below them.

"Sleeping like a baby."

That was from Terra. The smiling geokinetic sat on the sofa she had claimed for her own, practicing her talent on a trio of small polished pebbles. Evidence of mistakes and broken pebbles lay around her feet as sand and rubble, but the two boys watched her delicate control as the three pebbles danced in circles in midair, guided by the gentle aura that wreathed her hands. The noise before had come from her.

"You're doing much better now, Terra," remarked Aqualad.

"Thanks, but it's thanks to you two that I can do this now, y'know."

She had come blundering into the city and fallen foul of a random Slade-bot attack. She had escaped with the two boys who had come to her rescue, with a sprained wrist, a hole in the road and one very damp, pincushioned robot crushed under a huge lump of granite and asphalt. The boys had quickly realized her powers were unstable, manifesting randomly and only working properly on large hunks of rock. After she had gotten over her fear of the only two friends she had in this dark world shunning her because of her 'uselessness', they had begun training her control by starting off with the pebbles. Now that had paid off, and Terra's control was definitely improved.

At the same time they told her the sad tale. Aqualad himself had grieved the loss of the Titans the most, distraught over the deaths and fearing for Robin's sanity. After being taken in by the police – they were still minors, after all – they had a hard time convincing those important to their plan that it would work, but the detective had been the one who agreed first. So far it seemed like Robin was willing to co-operate, but the three were really only waiting for Slade's backlash. They knew it would come, and come hard. They only hoped they would be able to glean something from Robin's information first so they would be prepared.

As they shared in Terra's practicing and their individual thoughts on theirs and other's situations, the feeling of foreboding could not be shrugged off.

"I just hope that when this is all over, we can resume some semblance of normality…" mused Terra.

"If we can ever get closure on all this," murmured Speedy.

"And if we can get Robin's help in stopping Slade in his tracks," said Aqualad. "I still haven't the foggiest how we're going to do that, or even if he'll agree."

"Oh, I'm sure he will!"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't know. It'll be unlike him to refuse, but you never know…we don't know the entire story of what he did to him."

The other two deflated a little.

"But I saw the salvation in his face. If we – us three, not just the detective – talk to him some more…he might agree…and we have to do all we can to make sure he won't get in trouble."

"Why would he?" asked Terra.

"In the eyes of the justice system, Robin has actually broken the law…but I'm sure as hell not letting him be punished for it," Aqualad said, his eyes narrowing defensively.

"He already has been."

* * *

Muh. Poor Robin.

Cheers to eeeeveryone who reviewed! I'm still going on the non-TT version of this, and kinda shoveled in things form other ideas of mine. But I'm doing this just before I go out tonight, so enjoy and plz review moremoremore!

Thanks Dlsky for two heee-uge reviews...and no, there's no betrayal from any geokinetic coming up. Bleh, that'd totally screw the whole story I'm building here! Hopefully the second part of this chapter gave you all a little insight as to her past eight months.


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